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If this is so, if to read a book as it should be read calls for the rarest qualities of imagination, insight, and judgment, you may perhaps conclude that literature is a very complex art and that it is unlikely that we shall be able, even after a lifetime of reading, to make any valuable contribution to its criticism. We must remain readers; we shall not put on the further glory that belongs to those rare beings who are also critics. But still we have our responsibilities as readers and even our importance. The standards we raise and the judgments we pass steal into the air and become part of the atmosphere which writers breathe as they work. An influence is created which tells upon them even if it never finds its way into print. And that influence, if it were well instructed, vigorous and individual and sincere, might be of great value now when criticism is necessarily in abeyance; when books pass in review like the procession of animals in a shooting gallery, and the critic has only one second in which to load and aim and shoot and may well be pardoned if he mistakes rabbits for tigers, eagles for barndoor fowls, or misses altogether and wastes his shot upon some peaceful cow grazing in a further field. If behind the erratic gunfire of the press the author felt that there was another kind of criticism, the opinion of people reading for the love of reading, slowly and unprofessionally, and judging with great sympathy and yet with great severity, might this not improve the quality of his work? And if by our means books were to become stronger, richer, and more varied, that would be an end worth reaching.
4 comments:
?????
I'm rather dense this day, so I'm not connecting here at all.
Fred, don't worry. It's the title page of Bear: The Hard Life and Good Times of Alabama's Coach Bryant by Paul W. (Bear) Bryant and John Underwood. My mom stood in line (with a cold) to have him sign it. I just unearthed it the other evening and wanted to scan this page.
Dwight,
OK, thanks. I was wondering if I was being denser than usual.
"Bear" Bryant, I haven't heard that name in ages.
While at Alabama I was in a service organization and every few weeks I had to meet and get checks signed by an old classmate of Bryant. I heard some nice tales that, for some reason, didn't make the book.
Most were mild, but even so they opened a window on a long-past world...such as ferries across the Mississippi River (mid-'30s), with plenty of gambling available when the boat left the dock.
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